


Inheritance

by WhyNotFly



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Briefly referenced daddy kink, Coerced Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied Trans James Wright, Implied/Referenced Incest, James Wright as Jon's biological father, M/M, No Condom, No Negotiation, Peter being casually transphobic/transfetishistic, Peter is ace too in my mind but sex interested, Sex repulsed asexual character having sex, Teen!Jon/Adult Peter, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Underage - Freeform, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal injury during sex, jesus christ this is a long list but please read it and be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28445937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyNotFly/pseuds/WhyNotFly
Summary: “I’m hardly a guest,” Peter said with a smile that felt as empty as his presence.  “Your father has put a great deal of trust in me, leaving me as your caretaker while he’s away on business.  Some would say I’m practically a member of the family.”Jon scoffed and rolled his eyes in a way he hoped was vicious enough to wound.  “You’re barely a glorified babysitter.”**James Wright leaves his son in the somewhat dubious care of his paramour, Mr. Peter Lukas.  He does his best to follow James' instructions.
Relationships: Background Peter Lukas/James Wright, Peter Lukas/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43
Collections: End of Year Exchange 2020





	Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> Jon is trans in this, and the words used for his parts are slit, cunt, and clit. If this will upset you, please take care of yourself and do not read this. I also urge you to mind the content warnings, and follow a similar procedure if anything listed in there will cause you undue stress.

“We have a guest room, you know,” Jon said, folding his arms tight into each other and trying to will his childish voice into the deep, commanding baritone of his father’s. When he grew up, he hoped he would have a voice half as commanding as his father’s. A voice people respected. A voice people listened to.

Peter Lukas looked wrong in Jon’s father’s bed. It was like he was too large, sprawled out wide and possessive with his arms resting all along the backboard and his legs propped up beneath the sheets, taking up a space that did not belong to him. Or maybe it was that he was too small, fading into the dark wood and clean white comforter, leaving the room somehow emptier than it was when Jon’s father was merely absent. Lonelier, in spite of its single occupant.

“I’m hardly a guest,” Peter said with a smile that felt as empty as his presence. “Your father has put a great deal of trust in me, leaving me as your caretaker while he’s away on business. Some would say I’m practically a member of the family.”

Jon scoffed and rolled his eyes in a way he hoped was vicious enough to wound. “You’re barely a glorified babysitter.”

“If you like,” Peter agreed magnanimously, as if he was graciously granting Jon a victory. It made the hair on Jon’s arms prickle in annoyance. “I thought I would spare your feelings by avoiding that word. A big boy like you must be a bit embarrassed needing a _babysitter_.”

“I _don’t_.” Jon snapped.

“Your father seemed to think you do. And frankly, I’m inclined to agree.”

Jon felt the anger bloom hot in his cheeks and roll up towards his hairline. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself for a few days. I certainly don’t need help from the likes of _you_.”

“Hmm.” Peter cast a critical eye up and down Jon and he felt suddenly foolish somehow for reasons he didn’t understand. It was like standing in front of his father with a 98 on a test, being forced to explain his mistake. Prove he now understood everything. In front of Peter, Jon wasn’t sure he knew any of the answers at all, let alone what the questions were. “If that’s the case, then what are you doing here?”

Jon blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Peter swept the covers off to the side in one swift motion and Jon snapped his eyes away from the stomach-turning bare of his thighs. 

“Well, it’s the middle of the night, Jonathan.” Peter leaned up and forward off the bank of pillows and towards Jon, like a building wave. For a moment, Jon thought his momentum would carry him up and out of bed, but he just stopped, eyes intent upon Jon. “Clearly you need something from me, since you came to disturb me in my bedroom.”

“It’s not _your_ bedroom.”

“It is the bedroom I sleep in whenever I come visit your father.” Jon knew this of course, he wasn’t willfully ignorant, but the reminder of the fact set his teeth on edge. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Jon bit his lip. Coming here had been half instinct, half hopeful delusion, but entirely a mistake. His father was understanding of his night terrors, but displaying that kind of weakness in front of Mr. Lukas was entirely different. He was a teenager now. He was supposed to be mature.

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid, Jon,” Peter said, his voice still dripping with manufactured compassion. “Fear is natural, and inescapable. Even grown-ups feel afraid sometimes.”

Jon’s eyes flickered down to study the soft, beige carpeting beneath his bare toes. “My dad isn’t afraid of anything.”

Peter chuckled briefly before bringing his fist up quickly to stifle the sound. “Oh, I promise you. James is afraid of plenty of things.”

“Really?” Jon looked back up at Peter, excitement fluttering like moths in his chest. He had spent his whole life with his father, and yet he still knew so little about him. His work at the Institute, his odd friends, the quiet conversations he overheard in the night full of words he recognized in contexts he didn’t.

“Come sit here with uncle Peter and I’ll tell you a story.” Peter patted the sheets beside him invitingly and Jon scampered forward and settled in, eager to hear more. “Maybe it’s just the thing to help you sleep.”

Jon shivered just a bit as Peter settled an arm around his shoulders. His skin was chillier than the silent air of the house around them. Jon let himself be pulled in, but found no more warmth in the odd cushion of Peter’s chest.

“Once upon a time,” Peter began, and Jon bit his tongue before complaining about being treated like a baby again. He didn’t want to risk Peter leaving him with none of his questions answered. “Once upon a time, Jonah Magnus was just a normal man, with normal hopes and normal fears.”

“Magnus like my father’s institute?” Jon interrupted, looking up at Peter, his eyes wide. “Who is that?”

“He’s, well, let’s call him an _ancestor_ of your father’s, shall we?” Peter tweaked Jon’s nose just light enough to not sting. His other hand slid down Jon’s arm, leaving goosebumps as it went. 

“What do you mean by _call_ him an ancestor? Who was he?” Jon sat up straighter and rested a hand on Peter’s chest arching up towards him.

“Do you want to hear the story, or do you just want to assault me with questions?”

Jon screwed his brow tight in concentration and then answered with confidence. “Questions.”

Peter snorted lightly and shook his head in hopeless exhaustion. He brushed his fingers tenderly through Jon’s hair, pulling just enough to tilt Jon’s head back further. “You really are the spit of your father.”

Jon opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get the words out, Peter leaned in close and fit their mouths together. Jon blinked once, twice, his eyes struggling to focus on the blurry details of Peter’s face in startling proximity, his mouth slack beneath Peter’s dry, cracked lips. He tasted like salt and sour spit. Peter’s hand on Jon’s arm tightened into an iron grip for a moment, and then shoved him harshly so that he collapsed onto his back on the sheets.

“Wha—” Jon managed to gasp out before Peter followed him over, pinning him in with a hand planted on either side of Jon’s head.

“No more questions now. I don’t think a smart boy like you needs them.” Peter lowered himself until he could press his nose into the soft skin of Jon’s cheek. His breath was cold on Jon’s neck, like wind off the sea. “You’ve gotten so big, kiddo, I’m sure you know what it is your father and I do when I stay over in his room. I’m sure you’ve listened through the walls.”

Every piece of skin that Peter touched heated up in shame and indignation. “I would never!”

“It isn’t your fault,” Peter whispered in Jon’s ear, his voice husky and mostly air. “James is a noisy little slut.”

Jon squeezed his eyes shut against the unwanted memories of rhythmic banging and muffled moans. He didn’t want to picture his father like that. He didn’t want to imagine what his own voice would sound like, dragged unwillingly out of him. “I’m not him, I’m not my father.”

“Maybe you’re good enough for a lonely man like me.” Peter slipped his arms beneath Jon and curled around him in a tight hug. Peter’s forehead pressed possessively into the top of Jon’s head, and something hot and hard poked against his hip. Distractingly hot, compared to the cold of Peter’s skin. “Or maybe I’m doing this _for_ him.”

“For him?”

“I wasn’t much older than you are when _my_ father showed _me_ how all of this works,” Peter explained, rolling off Jon just enough to be able to slip his hands beneath his pajama shirt and slide it upwards. “And James mentioned you having your first period recently, that’s when cunts start to get all desperate to have something stuck up in them. Better to have your virginity stripped away without the complications of developing _feelings_ for whomever it’s with.”

Jon couldn’t breathe through the casually impersonal way Peter rattled off so much overwhelming information. When he found his voice, all he could say was, “But you’re not my father.”

“Perhaps he thought it would be a shame for the first thing inside you to be plastic.” Jon’s spine stiffened as Peter’s wandering hand pet along his exposed stomach, toying with the smooth skin just above his waistband.

“P-perhaps?” Jon asked breathlessly, watching that hand creep lower, underneath the elastic of his pajamas. 

“He didn’t leave specific instructions.” The rough tip of Peter’s finger traced over Jon’s folds and Jon’s leg spasmed. “But you said it before, you can take care of yourself. Why would a big boy like you need a babysitter? And really, would this be the first time your father left you in a situation with no instructions, trusting you would follow in exactly the path he wanted for you?”

“The path he wanted…” Jon echoed, staring down at where he could feel Peter’s fingers sliding up and down, leaving a slick residue on his skin.

“Don’t you want to be just like your father, Jonathan? Experience what he’s experienced?”

Jon’s cheeks were burning as he brought his hands up to cover his eyes. He didn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him. He could feel Peter pulling at the elastic of his pajama pants, lifting his bottom half off the bed until he could slide them down his legs and off.

“It’s okay to be scared, kiddo.” Jon peeked out through his fingers and saw Peter crouching down between his legs. He pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of Jon’s thigh and it made something inside him tense up. “Remember what I said? Even your dad is afraid sometimes.”

“I-I’m not scared,” Jon insisted, trying to force his way past the quiver in his voice that betrayed the butterflies in his stomach, slowly drifting lower.

“No, of course not,” Peter agreed, kissing him again, right in the crease of his thigh. “You’re a brave boy. Beautiful, brave boy.” Peter leaned in and licked a wide stripe all the way up Jon’s slit and Jon spasmed at the strange, electric feeling. It made his toes curl, and his fingers close tight over his eyes again. 

Peter took the soft meat of Jon’s thigh in one heaping handful and pinned it back against the bed, opening his hips up wide so he could press in closer, running his tongue up and around Jon’s clit until his hips were lifting off the bed, and then sliding back down to press against his tight entrance. Jon did his best to stay obediently still, even as the sensations wracking through him sent him squirming with overstimulation. The heat started in his belly, little shivers making their way out through each of his limbs, until he was mewling desperately, tiny breathy moans that sounded almost like he was in pain. 

Peter pulled back and Jon collapsed bonelessly into the bed. He hadn’t even realized he was clenching his jaw until he released it with a painful ache. Peter rose up over him, mouth and chin slick and shiny. The room smelled hot and sour like fish, and Jon screwed his nose up tight against it. 

“Not a screamer like your father, then?” Peter said with a laugh before settling back on his heels. His boxer shorts were tented and straining. “That’s alright, kiddo, you certainly taste better.”

“That’s disgusting,” Jon spit, trying to find the strength in his wobbly limbs to sit up. “Sex is disgusting.”

“You’re right about that.” Peter reached out and grabbed Jon, almost entirely dwarfing Jon’s childish wrist with the size of his hand. He pulled him up like Jon weighed nothing at all, arranging him like a doll until he settled comfortably in Peter’s lap again, resting his weight against his chest. “But I’m afraid we’re not quite done.”

Jon let out a wordless whine, burying his face in Peter’s shirt and breathing in the strange comfort of the smell of his skin and sweat. “I’m so _tired_ , though.”

“I know, I know, but you know how insistent your father is on being _thorough_. I wouldn’t want to face how he’d react if he came back and found we’d left the job half done, would you? That greedy little thing between your legs must be properly sated.”

“I don’t wanna have sex with anyone, though, Peter, I promise. I won’t ever.” Jon bundled up the fabric of Peter’s shirt in his fists and looked up at him endearingly, pleading with him to be believed. “I promise I won’t.”

Peter brought a hand down to tenderly cup the side of Jon’s cheek. “I believe you. But while I’m here, I’m acting as your father, and I just can’t leave this unfinished. He would want me to take proper care of you.”

“I wish my father _was_ here,” Jon mumbled, dropping his gaze to the side.

“Well then,” Peter slipped his fingers around until they were underneath Jon’s chin and tilted his face back up. “How about you imagine _I’m_ James, and I’ll imagine _you’re_ James, and we’ll both be wonderfully lonely together, how does that sound?”

When Peter pushed his thumb up against Jon’s slack lips, Jon opened his mouth and let him slide it in. It was almost comforting, sucking on Peter’s thumb like a baby, letting the taste of skin settle through his tired body.

“There we are,” Peter crooned as Jon relaxed into his chest and suckled quietly on his thumb. “Good boy. So obedient.”

Jon wanted to complain, but his mouth was full and his eyes were fluttering as the bone-deep exhaustion settled in him. It must have been hours past his bedtime at this point. 

Peter brought his other hand down to tug his boxers off and let his cock spring free. It was flushed red and curved and leaking fluid from the tip, and Jon felt a sense of panic cut through his exhaustion as he took in just how _large_ it was. Nothing like the safe, scientific diagrams in his textbooks.

“Whumpffr dibfurg,” Jon tried to say around a mouthful of Peter’s thumb. 

“Sorry?” Peter asked, slipping his finger free. A part of Jon whined at the loss.

“Why is it doing that?” Jon repeated, gesturing off-hand at the erection pressing hot against his oddly sticky thigh. 

“I suppose living here with your father you wouldn’t have the opportunity to see a real cock before.” Peter took Jon’s wrist and led his hand down, nudging him into curling his fingers around the hot length. His fingertips didn’t touch. “It points towards things it wants.”

“And it wants me?” Jon asked, quietly, unable to pull his eyes away.

Peter nuzzled deep into the side of Jon’s neck, nipping at the fragile skin. “You smell like James.”

Jon thought guiltily of his excitement for his father’s trip so that he could use his shampoo, his fancy colognes, try on his expensive ties and jackets and admire himself in the mirror. This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To be just like his father?

“Don’t worry,” Peter whispered. “With a tight little virgin cunt like yours, this won’t take very long.”

With that, Peter grabbed Jon’s hips tight and hoisted him up as though he weighed nothing at all. Jon wasn’t used to feeling _small._ Peter tilted him one way and then the other, rubbing the spit and slick from Jon’s sopping folds up and down the length of his cock, using him like a toy. Every time Peter bumped up against his clit Jon twitched like he’d been electrocuted. Even just this was too much, he didn’t want to think of that thick cock trying to stuff its way inside him. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if it couldn’t, if Peter had to tear something open to fit. But most of all, he didn’t want to think about how it would feel if it _did_ fit. His body opening and welcoming like it had always been designed to have a cock lodged inside it. The thought made panic roll like nausea in his stomach.

He closed his eyes again.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Peter repeated, and Jon felt the thick head of his cock finally pop into him. It hurt like a bad stretch, a pulled muscle, a stinging ache radiating out and causing his stomach to clench in immediate panic. It was huge and impossible and pulled at the sensitive flesh inside him as Peter tugged at Jon’s hips to try and sink in deeper.

“No no no,” Jon whimpered in panic, unaware he was even talking.

“I do recommend breathing,” Peter instructed cheerfully, and Jon tried his best to obey, but the air rattled through his chest and did nothing to clear his mind.

“Here, let me just—“ Jon felt Peter grab his ankle and pull his leg out up and straight. The burn lessened just a bit as something inside him opened up and let Peter’s cock slide in a little more comfortably. The muscles in his thigh ached from the intense stretch of his leg, and that helped too. A familiar pain to focus his mind on. Split his attention. 

“There we are, there we are, you bendy little thing,” Peter crooned as his one hand pulled Jon’s ankle upward and the other pushed his hip downward, and slowly but surely Jon sank down, down, down, until he was fully impaled. He cried out, just once, in pain, as he felt something tear ever so slightly as he struggled to seat himself around the thick base. When Jon blinked his eyes hazily open, Peter was smiling at him.

“There’s my scream.” Peter curled in and pressed a kiss to the center of Jon’s forehead, warm and proud. “Just like your father.” 

“Is it done?” Jon panted out, trying his best not to whine. “Are we finished yet?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid.” Peter brushed the sweaty bangs off Jon’s face and tucked them back. “We’re just taking a little break to let your body adjust.”

“No.” Jon shook his head emphatically. “I don’t want my body to adjust. Just fuck me.”

“Aren’t you a little wildcat?” Peter said with a laugh. “Are you that wound up and desperate to cum?”

“I don’t want an orgasm.” Jon stared Peter in the eyes, daring him to doubt his resolve. “My father always says that the most important strength is gained by living through suffering. If that is what the world is going to be, I want to start practicing now.”

Peter chuckled again, and Jon narrowed his eyes at the disrespect. “That does sound like James. And you trust him?”

“My father knows what’s best for me.”

“Wise little cocksleeve,” Peter said, and then made good on the promise of his words, grabbing Jon by the ass and sheathing himself again and again into his wet heat. Jon could do nothing but wrap his arms around Peter’s neck and hold on for dear life. It still hurt in the strangest way, a way that had his legs shaking and his breath pooling out in helpless moans against the skin of Peter’s throat. The slick sounds of skin on skin was all around them and Jon wished there was anything else to escape it, but Peter was silent except for ragged breathing and the occasional grunt.

After only a few minutes, Jon felt Peter fall out of his rhythm, his hips stuttering up into him a few times before he pulled Jon down flush with his lap and spilled hot inside him. It was an entirely new kind of _too full_ and it left Jon a little dizzy, his brain struggling to process everything. Unceremoniously, Peter released his grip, and Jon swayed once before collapsing sideways onto the mound of pillows. He heard as much as felt the soft, unpleasant sensation of Peter’s cum leaking out of him.

“Now aren’t you a lovely sight?” Jon’s eyes struggled to flutter open enough to see Peter sitting up over him, still fully dressed in his pajamas with his spent cock lying messy and wet over his rumpled boxer shorts. Peter reached out and tweaked one of Jon’s nipples, and he whined, his body still wound up and throbbing. “The only improvement would be a bit more development. Your father used to have gorgeous tits before he cut them off. A real waste of a perfect handful.”

“I’m not _for you_ ,” Jon grumbled, sleepily. 

“You know, now that we’ve fucked,” Peter said as he settled himself down on the bed next to Jon, resting an arm along the pillows above Jon’s head, “you can call me daddy.”

“I can also get up and leave right now,” Jon snapped and Peter laughed, deep in his chest.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded. Gently, Peter slid his arm beneath Jon’s boneless form and pulled him into his chest. Somehow, in spite of Peter’s chilly skin, here in the circle of his arms it was pleasantly warm. “I’m not your real family, I understand. But James entrusted me with taking care of you, and I’m not going to make you go back to your room after your nightmares.”

“I’m not scared,” Jon insisted, although the assertion lost some of its bite as he couldn’t stop himself from snuggling in deeper to Peter’s chest and closing his eyes. “I can sleep by myself.”

“Of course you can, kiddo,” Peter murmured, kissing Jon’s soft hair. “So why don’t we both just sleep alone, together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I’m [@apatheticbutterflies](%E2%80%9C) on tumblr if you wanna come hang out!!! Oh! And thanks to everyone who read it over for me!!


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